


These Days

by ArrowsandStars



Category: Eleanor & Park - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: 1993, And Bored, Eleanor is so smart, F/M, Reunions, after college, and still thinks of Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 09:58:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19060351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArrowsandStars/pseuds/ArrowsandStars
Summary: Eleanor has graduated college (with honors) (thank you, very much) and is back where it all began and collapsed. And she doesn't know how to feel about it. Reconnecting with her mother and siblings? Great! The specter of Park, of that perfect, horrible slice of fairy tale she got in the midst of hell, still makes her wonder... But shouldn't she be past a fleeting high school romance by now?





	These Days

Eleanor blotted her dark brown lipstick on the inside sleeve of her button down, then flipped the visor back up before hauling herself out of the oldsmobile and locking its ancient door. One last glance at her reflection in the mirror told her her hair was not to be helped today, and was determined to resemble a birds nest and not a bun. A mental shrug and a flip off to her reflection and she was trudging up the steps of the bookstore, her keychain wrapped around her wrist among the half dozen bangles there.

She opened the store with the half mindfulness of someone used to their job and it’s requirements, and after four months back after graduation, she supposed she should know.  
It was… odd being back in the same town as that horrible, awful, year of highschool. It was strange living so close to her mother again. And all of her little siblings, older and not so little anymore. After what she’d come to think of as the Cataclysm, she’d drifted away from her close family, aunt and uncle and new school friends and advanced classes stepping in to fill a gap Maisie and the others had filled in that horrible little house.

She shuddered and spooned sugar into a cracked mug next to the hissing and gurgling coffee pot. She’d papered over Park in her mind. The one bit of warmth during that eternal winter of a year. She’d driven by his parents house one time. Her first week back, and the sight of that gravel driveway had sent her speeding away so quickly she’d felt the glass rattle in the panes of the oldsmobile. She hated that she still wondered about him.

Honestly. A new honor’s college graduate should have something better to think about than her first high school boyfriend. (Was that even what Park had been?) Like a fulfilling career. Or grad school, fuck, even law school. She could probably get a full ride to either with her GPA. 

Instead, she was back here. Living a mile away from her mother’s little noisy house in a shabby early 80’s throwback apartment and working at a used bookstore. She didn’t like to think about the fact it was in the same shopping center as Park’s old favorite record store. She couldn’t even bring herself to look to see if it was still open.

Nine thirty brought in her first customers of the day, and she sold five Tom Clancy paperbacks in one transaction, (a new record) and had a rather lengthy conversation with a middle aged woman about Cosmopolitan magazine (a new personal low) before noon. One o’clock and she was back breakingly bored. She broused. Helped three more people, ate lunch, finished her book and started a new one. 

The evening sun was beginning to slant into the storefront windows; and Eleanor idly flipped through the month’s National Geographic magazine with her chin resting on her fist while Joy Division quietly crooned through her old cassette player, when the bell above the door chimed. 

She glanced up, but the sun made it impossible to make out more than the shoulders of a man. She folded her page down, and gave her normal ‘let me know if I can help you find anything yada-yada’ before realizing her customer hadn’t so much as taken a step past the door. She stopped, and Joy Division filled the silence for an odd moment before she heard a voice that made her stomach hit the floor.

“Eleanor.” 

He still said her name like a prayer, but his voice sounded deeper. Raspier. And he’d dropped his car keys on the entry mat. Her mouth fell open, and she was standing (when had she stood up?) (When had she left the safety of behind the desk?!)

And suddenly, Park, her Park, was standing in front of the little desk they used as a counter, and she was too, and she could get a good look at him. He had changed so much and so little in six years it made her heart hurt. He was taller, he still wore all black, and he had on more eyeliner than she did. It was unreasonable that it looked better on him. He’d gotten taller… broader. She took it all in in a second. 

How many times had she thought of this scenario? Millions. How did all that mental preparation help her now? Not at all.

“Hi, Park.” was what she managed.


End file.
